'All noblemen are to be ransomed in Damascus,' Sahak told me with spiteful glee, 'and, should anyone wish to claim you, the amir has decreed a price of ten thousand dinars for your release.'
'Please, tell the Excellent and Admirable Amir Ghazi that I am truly overwhelmed by the prodigious magnitude of his mercy and generosity.'
Sahak grimaced. 'Tomorrow we will continue our journey to Damascus. You will travel in the amir's baggage train with the other noble captives. So that you will not offend the Illustrious Atabeg Buri, by arriving empty-handed, the Wise and Benevolent Ghazi will provide you with a gift befitting your rank.'
When the translator was finished, the amir clapped his hands, and a guard entered from the outer room. Ghazi beckoned him near and put his mouth to his servant's ear. The man rose quickly and left. The amir enjoyed a shrewd smile at my expense and I felt a dread apprehension creep over me as the guard returned bearing a large wooden box, which he placed on the floor between myself and the amir.
The box itself was one of the ornately carved variety I had noticed in the anteroom; made of fine wood inlaid with gold tracery, it was costly, certainly, but I reckoned the box itself was not the gift the wily amir had in mind.
'Open it,' commanded Ghazi through his gloating Armenian mouthpiece.
I knelt down and unfastened the simple hasp. Then, taking the top in both hands, I steeled myself and lifted the hinged lid to reveal a severed human head. One brief glimpse of the long yellow hair and the neat forked beard gave me to know it was none other than the golden head of incautious Prince Bohemond.
THIRTY-FIVE
Impetuous no more, Prince Bohemond appeared serene and tranquil, his fine features becalmed, if not beatific-a testimony to the embalmer's art, for even in my fleeting encounter with the hasty Count of Antioch, I could tell that serenity was never part of his nature. Certainly, I had never seen him looking more contented -as if in death, his war with the world now over, he had entered a splendour of peace that had eluded him in life.
The flesh had a waxy texture and a slightly glistening tawny sheen, due to the pitch resin used to preserve the head. Yet, it was lifelike in every other way so that poor Bohemond seemed merely to slumber in the serene tranquility of a golden sunset. Alas, it was a sleep from which there would be no waking, and I might have mourned the life of a brother Christian so brutally cut off-if not for the fact that he had brought this ghastly extremity upon himself.
He had sown destruction, and reaped a bounteous harvest. Those who deserved my grief were the men who had no choice but to follow their vainglorious prince into death's cold and darksome halls.
My Seljuq masters wanted me to feast my gaze upon the grisly prize that I might know the fate awaiting noble traitors. Oh, they took great pleasure in their victory, of which the prince's head was the emblem. Given a choice, I believe Amir Ghazi would rather have had the ransom money-doubtless, the prince would have paid an enormous fortune in treasure for his freedom. Still, the wily amir was not sorry to have annihilated a foe whose continued presence would have been a bane and a curse.
They presented me with the box, and the Armenian katib informed me that I was to carry it-a sort of punishment, I suppose, for causing the amir the aggravation of having to deal with me. Or, maybe it was the scribe's revenge for my subtle mockery of the day before.
Whatever the reason, I carried the head of Bohemond on my back all the way to Damascus. A loathsome labour, I cursed the arrogant young lord every trudging step of the way.
Provided with a length of folded cloth to serve as a strap, I hoisted the bejewelled box onto my back and followed the other servants when, upon striking camp, they set off. The box was heavy, and in a discouragingly short time my shoulders and arms were throbbing with a fiery ache. I eventually worked out that by knotting the ends of the strap and raising the knot to my forehead, the pressure on my shoulders was relieved by taking some of the weight on my hands. It was awkward, and bent me like an old man, but at least I was able to walk like this for long stretches at a time without exhausting myself.
On that first day, I wondered why it was that the amir's caravan made no attempt to keep pace with the troops. After a time, it became apparent that we were travelling by another route. This caused me some concern, and I hoped we would eventually rejoin the rest of the Seljuq army, as I did not like being separated from the other Christian prisoners.
Then, as the day dwindled away towards evening and we stopped to make camp, I was joined by three other captive noblemen bound for ransom in Damascus; all were Franks. One of them had been wounded in the battle, and still suffered from his wounds; the other two were nobles of a more rustic stripe who knew little Latin, and no Greek, which made it difficult to speak with them. Also, because of my dress and speech, they thought me an Armenian and worthy only of contempt; say what I might, I could not disabuse them of this notion. Consequently, they would have nothing to do with me, and I was left to myself for the most part.
In many ways, those servants employed in the keeping of the amir's camp had the best of the travelling. Since much of the treasure and tribute was loaded onto horses, requiring the servants to walk along beside, they stopped regularly for rest and water-much more often than the great mass of the army, which pushed swiftly on. So, when they rested, my fellow prisoners and I rested; and when they drank, we drank.
Those first few days were blessedly shortened, or I do not believe I would have survived. As it was, we walked until the burning sun stretched our shadows long behind us. Then the chief steward, having found a suitable place, would give the command to set up camp. In this chore, I had no part; each servant had his special duties and, as I was given nothing to do-except fetch water for the animals occasionally-I was most often able to rest and watch the hurried proceedings as tents were erected, cooking fires lit, and meals prepared.
Each evening, as the flame-tinted sky flared with the day's last brilliance, the amir and his retinue would arrive and the camp would be ready. The amir ate a simple meal, usually alone, and then received members of his following-sometimes singly, more often in groups of two or three.
Left to myself for the most part, I would find a hollow place among the stones to sleep, and lay on the ground listening to the sound of the Seljuqs' voices, loud in the quiet of the camp. They talked long into the night, their intense discussions frequently interrupted by bursts of rowdy laughter which would cease as abruptly as they began. Then, in the morning, the amir would emerge from his tent, give orders to the chief steward, mount his horse and ride away, leaving us to strike camp and move on to the next stopping place.
After we had been several days on the trail, my presence ceased to be of interest to my erstwhile guards. I was treated no more or less well than a dog or mule belonging to the camp; if no one took any interest in my welfare, neither did they show me cruelty or inflict needless torment. They were not warriors, after all, but servants: inexperienced in keeping prisoners and largely unaware of any pressing need to keep me bound or tethered in any way. Perhaps they reckoned escape unlikely as, with nothing but empty desert wilderness stretching away in every direction, there was no place for me to flee.